The Recipe for an Elixir
by Whimsical Symphony
Summary: The frugal Angela is used to neglecting to eat for a preference of shipping the food and making money. When she faints for the millionth time, she really didn't expect a cranky Brass Bar chef to take her health into his own hands and teach her the art of cooking and eating right. [Chase / Angela]


**The Recipe for an Elixir**

_Written by Whimsical Symphony_

_Should be focusing on my other stories, and I'm obviously not. I also shouldn't have even been posting this at the first chapter and instead tried to write ahead to not keep you guys waiting, but I'm sorry, it's going to have to turn out that way. I'm guessing it shouldn't take me too long to write chapters for this story, judging by the fact that it's not that deep, and I'm not focusing on heart-wrenching emotions and all that other stuff from my other stories, but don't quote me on that. It still won't be shallow though, and hopefully you guys will find it funny. I'll still probably take a while, even though I don't intend for this story to be long._

_Chase is my favourite character from Animal Parade and ToT, so of course this story had to focus on him. I also prefer Angela to Molly even though I like both. Julius and Gill are close second favourites for me, so they'll play a role too – oh, and I like Kathy. But you'll see an appearance from most of the characters and they all play a good role._

_Let me know if I didn't get Chase's personality right, or if Angela annoys you, or if you want to rip my entire story to shreds. I don't mind. Happy reading! Let me know what you think!_

* * *

**Chapter I – The Recipe for Irresponsibility**

Angela remembered watering some plants, lugging that heavy watering can around while she prayed to the Gods to let her plants grow. A few of them died due to some unforeseen issues a few days ago and the mayor's son, Gill, just rubbed salt in her wound by making fun of her.

"And you said you were a capable farmer." He clucked his tongue and sighed disappointedly, then smirked.

Angela realized right then why no one wanted to be friends with the guy. He might have been a good looking man, since he didn't take after his rotund father, but his personality was worse than some of the irritable animals she took care of on a daily basis. She knew he wouldn't be able to handle half of what she did every day, so she really should have been telling him not to judge her for making a few mistakes as a new farmer when he couldn't even stand to get a little dirt on his designer label sweater-vest. The priss.

She came to the island to work, and she thought she did a pretty damn good job at it. Her parents always thought – Molly this, Molly that – didn't spare a second thought to Angela who literally lived life in her spoiled sister's shadow. What better way to do anything than to start running a farm near Harmonica Town and helping all the townspeople? She discovered a little of herself that way. And not to mention her family all wore designer sweater-vests and Hugo Boss perfumes and cologne. Kind of like Gill.

God damn it, she hated using money for stupid purposes. A lot. She could get by without the most of it. She didn't need to buy Armani for herself – she could get buy on old cotton sweatpants and hand-me-downs. And instead have a rich as hell looking farm to show off to her stupid parents.

No wonder she didn't like the guy, maybe she was a little biased. Maybe if she didn't judge him a lot of people would flock around him – sort of like they did around Kathy. A strange sort of vision filled her head of a wide smile on Gill's face as he passed drinks around and laughed with everyone on the island as he talked about his wonderful day filled with paperwork and helping his dear, ailing father out a little. All of the people fought for his attention, about who'd get the seat next to Gill at the Brass Bar.

That thought scared her a little. What drugs was she on, to think something like that?

Suddenly, light started to fill her vision and that weird picture of Gill faded into the depths of Hell where it must have emerged from – something so darned unrealistic, Picasso himself couldn't have come up with it. Her head started to pound harshly, like some musician decided it'd make a good drum and then she could finally see. She lay down on a bed in a room with white walls, and their doctor, Jin, copying down notes while he sat on one of those revolving chairs near his desk.

Oh, and apparently Chase was here too – the really good looking Brass Bar chef who had a personality just as rotten as Gill's, but somehow, he had friends anyway – or people he hung around or hung around him or whatever. He also had bobby pins in his peach coloured hair, to keep the hair out of his face, he always said. She swore he wanted to make a fashion statement or something, what with him always wearing his apron everywhere as well. Julius told her if he wanted to make a fashion statement, he was doing it _all_ wrong – and that man knew _all_ about fashion, so of course he knew who was doing it _right_.

Chase scowled at her, or maybe he didn't – she didn't really know because the guy never stopped scowling. He could have been happy, who knows? "Done fainting?" he asked, anything but politely, arms crossed like he'd rather be anywhere but in the same room as her.

"Nah, it was a pretty good nap," Angela replied good-naturedly and just as sarcastically as Chase usually answered her. "I think I'll go for another round." Ah, so she fainted. It'd happened before, and she'd gotten pretty well acquainted with the hospital bed – memory foam, nice and comfy. "What're you doing here anyway?"

"Is that any way to talk to the guy who decided to save your life? I could have just left you there, you know," Chase pointed out. He shrugged. "I don't know why I went through the trouble."

"And Chase's small heart grew three sizes that day." Angela nodded and with an easy grin added, "Thanks man. I owe you one."

Chase looked about to retort, but then doctor Jin cut him off by saying, "Angela, you really have to stop doing this. It is quite obvious you're not taking care of yourself." He looked both concerned and utterly miffed all at one time. What she learned about Jin during her stay was that he was really motherly, like crazy motherly – as if she was some really fragile foal or something. "This is the tenth time this _month. _And Chase took you here this time – how many other times have people found you collapsed and decided to take you here? You've been neglecting your health." He tapped the pen he'd been writing with on the clipboard in a steady rhythm to calm himself down.

So maybe he had a reason to act all concerned. But taking care of herself cost both money and time and being short on both well, she neglected her health. But like Angela'd tell him that.

Just as she scrounged up all her knowledge to persuade Jin to let her go again and promise that she'd take care of herself, Chase promptly interrupted her and sounded alarmed and in disbelief, "Ten times? What have you been doing? Not eating? You don't need to lose weight, you already look like a stick," Chase told her, smirking.

Oh man, Gill needed to take a page out of Chase's book. He was pretty funny, you know, besides actively trying to offend people. She didn't get all that offended easily though.

"Sorry Doc, I'll take real good care of myself," she answered Jin, then moved her gaze to answer Chase. Angela, kind of amused, said, "Well I _have_ been a bit of a scavenger lately. I thought having an egg from the chicken coop and some milk and one tomato a day would make it so I'd have _curves_ like you, Chase." She imitated Julius the best she could and observed him like an _artiste _would a sculpture. Chase backed away a little uncomfortable. Angela gestured with her hands at his body and then, as annoyingly as possible, crooned, "That small waist, large bust, and dear Harvest Goddess, your long legs! You'll be the envy of all the women in Harmonica Town. Now, dear Chase, would you humour a poor sticklike woman and tell her your measurements?" She tried to look as despondent as possible for good measure.

"You're such a flatterer, no _wonder _I haven't gone near you with a ten foot pole before today," Chase stated dryly, making Angela laugh. "But one tomato, milk and an egg? Are you asking for a death sentence? How the hell do you care of animals and crap if you can't even take care of yourself?" He honestly looked kind of pissed. He turned to Jin, who honestly didn't know what was going on and asked, "Hey, that can't be healthy can it?"

"It's not, and she's been doing this for as long as I can remember, though I don't know why," Jin responded with a sigh. "She doesn't know how to take care of herself."

"See it's not healthy! Do you not know how to cook or anything? All the ingredients you're wasting make me sick! You could easily fix all this _and _make yourself healthier!" Chase chastised with a frown, thinking of how the tomato could have at least been combined with the eggs for a good omelette for something a little heartier.

Or she could have had a glass of tomato juice along with that! The possibilities were _endless_… well, maybe not with these specific ingredients, but what she did so far was just stupid. Could anyone neglect their health so much?

Angela forgot that Chase also acted like a health nut.

"Okay, mom," Angela said, nodding like a good, filial daughter. "No, but seriously, I barely have time to eat, also eating costs money when I could just ship the stuff I eat and _make_ money – it just seems like waste to put it in my body." She explained her logic to them, and the more her words came out, the more stupid they honestly thought she was.

They just didn't understand the incredible intelligence it took to create ideas like hers. Chase for one, probably found himself envious of her productive, frugal ways that ensured that eventually she'd be a rich farmer that could show up her entire family's asses and prove that compared to Molly—

Angela noted how personal her mental rant just got.

Jin hastily searched through several bottles while Chase said slowly, "Have you ever thought that cooking would be more profitable, idiot? You'd get a lot more done with something in your body. You probably wasted a lot of time fainting," he pointed out.

She hated it when he turned out to be right. Except for the idiot part. Chase smirked then, making his pretty face look so darned _annoying_. What a waste of good looks.

"What do you suggest I do, almighty Chase?" Angela simpered as repulsively as she could manage.

"I suggest you learn how to make some food for yourself and eat it so I don't have to save your life anymore. You're so bony too – I don't know how anyone would be able to carry you without impaling themselves accidentally on your shoulder. I almost did myself," Chase muttered with disdain. Angela frowned. Then, he approached her rather intimidatingly, and decided to make a good point of flicking her in the forehead really hard. "You know it's not all that hard to make a heart omelette, or soup, or something. It's killing me to watch you flounder along like this. I swear, _Gill _could probably make a better show of surviving on his own."

"If it's killing you, maybe I'll continue," Angela responded with a nod. Then, she frowned, offended. "Hey, Gill can barely do anything on his own. I resent being compared to him."

"You're not making me think much better of you," Chase told her with a huff.

Jin finished searching through a few bottles and pushed a huge white one into her hands and sternly stated. "You will take these multi-vitamins. Once a day. And you will learn to eat well." He glared at her, and in Angela's mind, he had never sounded scarier.

"But I'll probably screw up and set my house on fire… and it takes so much time to learn. We can't all be as talented as Chase!" Angela knew that flattery was right up her alley.

Chase didn't look pleased however, seemingly knowing that he was a great cook and compliments were as common as the weeds growing near her onions. Jin didn't remove his gaze from her, clearly displeased as well.

Angela wondered when she started to become so crappy at defending herself.

* * *

After pulling one onion out of the ground with all the strength she could muster in her arms imbued with herculean strength, she huffed and puffed and then collapsed promptly in the mud, probably causing villainous soil to stain the pants she wore on the ass. Her cow, the first one she got on her Recorder Ranch (had to stay with the whole musical theme and all), came up to her, Bessie she named her (on purpose, mind you) and mooed sympathetically near her form on the grass, nudging her with her nose.

"Thanks for the vote of encouragement, Bessie. Why can't your friend, Snuggles, act the same way?" Angela asked.

Snuggles was another cow, but she was the type that flaunted her behind and all the female cows (and Angela) hated with a passion. She purposefully tried to be as stubborn as possible and never listened to the farmer. She was like one of those rich bitches people complained about in the office – all she needed was a sweater-vest like Gill and she'd be complete.

Bessie mooed as if to say, _'She is a terrible cow and I'm not friends with her. How could you ever think that, Angela! I'm ashamed of you!'_

"Geez, sorry Bessie. I was being sarcastic, you know-"

"You know, having conversations with cows is a red flag that you're insane, right?"

Angela lifted herself up slightly and look to see Chase, raising an eyebrow at her, not really surprised, but still looking at her like she caught the new crazy. Angela could play that game, she raised an eyebrow right back, ignoring the fact that she probably looked like crap (maybe literally if she'd fallen in Bessie or Snuggles' poop) and she never truly looked like a fine female specimen, and that Chase's skin looked far smoother than hers. Dang that handsome man. She could play it cool.

"Hello Chase, is it offend Bessie day? She's a sweet cow, you should come on over and have a conversation with her as well," Angela encouraged mockingly. "With your level of imagination though, I doubt you'd be able too. She has wit that'll put you to shame, so it's unfortunate you'll never be able to hear it." Bessie mooed in agreement. Angela smiled and cooed, "Good girl, Bessie."

Chase snorted. "Bessie? Real creative. If that's the best name you could come up with for a cow, I think I have more imagination than_ you_ at least." Angela scowled, and opened her mouth, about to rip Chase – the sarcastic chef one, but he interrupted her. He glanced at her form collapsed on the grass, the soil stains on her pants, and the exhaustion on her face. He smirked. "So, those tomatoes, eggs and milk doing it for you?"

"For your information, I only had the egg. I have to save something for lunch and dinner, don't I?" Angela muttered, utterly displeased he'd found her out.

Sighing, Chase approached her then with a determined glint in his eye. He'd practice being a good Samaritan for once in his life. Angela could have eaten, she could have lived a healthy life on the farm, with fresh air, rolling hills, blue skies, and cow crap! She could have, but she didn't listen. He told her this every time she came to the Brass Bar, that she had to eat something to keep herself going, not to mention the fact she didn't even get a good eight hours of sleep every night. Angela the farmer pissed him off more than Maya did with her terrible cooking skills and weird crush on him. Part of being a chef included helping others make the healthy choice, and it pained him to watch someone fail so horribly at life itself. He'd take on this task.

Chase yanked her up, and Angela flushed horribly from the skin-on-skin contact, and the embarrassment. "I wouldn't be a chef if I watched you fail at life so badly." He sounded pretty angry, if that scowl was anything to go by. He put hand over his eyes and breathed once, then twice to calm himself down and force himself to suspend his belief in reality and assume people really did think eating an egg, tomato and some milk in a day was good for them. "You're worse than Maya. At least she eats," Chase muttered as he dragged her away from her onions and Bessie, who looked at them quizzically. When Angela politely inquired where they were off to, Chase answered like she was stupid. "Obviously my house so we can learn how to cook, idiot."

"Y-you're going to teach me?" Angela asked, a little scared. Chase'd probably be the worst, most impatient, sadistic teacher ever.

"Yeah, so you'd better pay attention. I'm not going to be as nice a teacher as Yolanda was to me, not that I ever screwed up much," Chase said bluntly and arrogantly, looking her in the eye and then giving her a once over. Smirking, he said casually, "Maybe with some good food you'll start to look less like a twelve year old boy."

"Maybe I _want_ to be a twelve year old boy!" Angela snapped. Chase didn't let her go though, and she sighed, looking up at the blue sky, and then looked back at her farm in the distance. Sighing, she said irritably, "And I would have succeeded too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

"Okay, don't mind me for judging your weird preferences of wanting to look like a twelve year old boy. A growing boy does need food to eat though," Chase pointed out with a small smirk. "Unless you want to be scrawny and bony too because trust me, that's not a good look for a guy either." Angela looked ready to explode out of anger yet again.

Whenever she did that, he found her amusing, so he continued to push her buttons like he always did whenever he met her. Why shouldn't he have?

"Chase, you're so stupid," Angela muttered under her breath.

Chase thought he heard some curses in there too, and prided himself on making her so angry that she couldn't stop cursing him. She should have known though, that everyone on the island cursed him at least once a day with the amount he offended all of them, and so his body developed some kind of immunity to insults like hers.

"Smarter than you, since I know how to take care of myself," Chase retorted nonchalantly. "Guess I can't expect much out of you though. Never did strike me as the responsible type…"

"Why you, I'll have you know that I'm functioning quite well, thank you," Angela told him, poking him in the chest with her index finger for emphasis.

"Well enough to faint, maybe. Once I teach you how to cook, you'll be worshipping the ground I walk on," Chase told her with a smirk. Then, he flicked her hard in the forehead, having to hide his smile when she mumbled a small 'ouch'. "Maybe instead of growing produce on your farm, you should focus on growing a brain." Her head did feel kind of empty when he flicked it. It probably echoed in there. "No wonder you talk to cows, your head's practically empty."

Angela bickered with him until they reached his house. She wondered why, despite not talking to him much before, avoiding him really, she found it so easy to argue with him. While not the ideal sort of conversation that most people liked, she found Chase relatively amusing – his demeanor like a defensive cat. Whenever she went to the Brass Bar and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu when she couldn't hold out anymore, Angela always found herself trying to purposely annoy the chef to get a rise out of him. He just responded in a relatively cool-headed manner, some offhanded remark about her stupidity or something along those lines.

She wondered how tough a teacher he'd be and how much he'd end up yelling at her. She knew for sure she couldn't cook at all, so he was going to have to show her the ropes and show a decent amount of frustration – which she looked forward to really.

Angela really did love it when Chase got frustrated. In a day full of boring routine, he brought something special to the table. Like good food… maybe.


End file.
